


Flower of the Fall

by Dalzo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Kylo's been celibate for 100 years of course there's smut, batlo rise, blood kink with a side of wholesome pumpkin carving, but smut?, don't let the summary fool you 99 percent of this is angst, fierce compassionate Rey, the snark will be with you, vengeful vamire Kylo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 18:21:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21166067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalzo/pseuds/Dalzo
Summary: Rey’s life is full of unknown mysteries:Her parents, for one; her real birthday, another. But lately, it’s the injured bat she brought home transforming into a blood-sucking Vampire right before her eyes.He tilts her head with a gentleness that doesn’t befit his nature. “Look at me,” He softly commands. Rey obeys, sucking in a sharp breath as he leans in close. “Thank you. For saving me. For caring.” He sounds out slowly. “No one’s ever cared for me so diligently as you.”A large very much naked Vampire.





	Flower of the Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Azuwrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azuwrite/gifts).

> Take #2 of uploading this since I was that dumbass who uploaded the wrong draft, forgetting a whole section... whoops. 
> 
> This has been such a joy to write and it's all thanks to this wonderful lady's prompts - they were so good, in fact, that I couldn't JUST choose one.
> 
> So here's a mix of these two, absolutely brilliant prompts:
> 
> 1) Rey/Ben takes in an injured bat, nursing it back to health only to find out le gasp it’s a vampire!
> 
> 2) Ben/Rey comes from some different dimension, only seeing and appearing in black and white. The other must show them the beauty of the season and holidays to fully transition them into the new world and see it in color.
> 
> I sincerely hope I did them justice and really hope you enjoy this fic, Ash. You are an absolute delight in the Den, so giving to everyone in the fandom and make me giggle like mad!

#  **I.**

Strange. Sinister. Surreal. A dream turned nightmare, like she never woke up. It’s the only way to describe it. 

October thirteenth starts like any other: there is an alarm to herald the rising sun, a quick change of clothes following—comfy sweats for tight spandex—and a tall glass of water, gulped down hastily, before setting out on the daily three-mile run. 

She counts her steps like always, keeping her mind clear and focused. Her strides are long and steady, her lungs stable with each set of three: _ one, two, three, _ inhale; _ four, five, six, _exhale. It’s a process that begins her day on a positive note. 

Only today, there is a change. It all comes to a halting stop at step _ six-hundred-and-sixty-six _ when rounding Jakku’s large graveyard. 

In a pile of burnt leaves wept from the spindly tree above, a bat lies mangled and motionless. Upon closer inspection, Rey learns it to be alive but seriously injured. And so with careful hands she manages to scoop the poor creature into her cupped palms, earning it’s beady black-marbled stare. 

_ Strange, _she thinks as it never looks away, but still carries it home without a second thought. 

At this point of the morning, Rey is supposed to shower, eat breakfast then bike over to the junkyard ready to start the day’s work. The bat, however, has disrupted her carefully crafted _ twenty-four/seven _routine. 

It’s Sunday and the Vet won’t open until the following day, but she is good at fixing things; good at salvaging the old, turning it into something new-ish or… perhaps just _ better. _She figures nursing it for a night couldn’t do any more harm. 

Throughout the morning, there are no hiccups; an old shoebox stuffed with tea-towels proves to be decent bedding for it’s rest. A small container of water and small strips of an orange are also placed inside, but it refuses to touch the two. 

It still refuses as lunch passes and soon the afternoon too. The bat remains placid and quiet though, still staring up at her with those shining wide eyes. For the most part, all is well and good. 

Then it starts to screech. 

It’s eight-pm, the sun has set and the moon is full, streaming through her kitchen window. The bat rises and dances within the luminous shine but casts no shadow upon the room, heavy wings flapping frantically as it’s agony morphs into something far more _ sinister. _

It’s scream becomes low and demonic, a blinding light beginning to pulse from its body. There’s a chill that descends over the room, permeating through flesh and bone as everything gets louder and brighter. 

Her eyes close tight, body curling into the corner of her counter, waiting for the _ surreal _ to make sense; waiting to wake up from this harrowing _ nightmare. _

Minutes later, the sound is brought to silence and darkness returns. Eventually, she stops shivering and a paralysed mind begins to unfreeze with fear bleeding into anticipation. 

Finally, Rey opens her eyes, seeing a shapeless white blur; watching it slowly come into focus. 

A man stands opposite her, tall and looming, hunched over her small dining table. He wears no clothes, a wide bare chest on display; ghostly-pale and marred with colourless scars, face shrouded in long black hair. 

A strong arm is braced upon the rustic surface, black veins surging beneath his skin, table creaking under his sheer weight. 

He seems...inhuman. And yet, he appears in man’s form. 

Suddenly, the stranger glances up, gaze snapping right to her spot in the cramped corner of her house. His eyes lock with her own, narrowing under two thick brows that furrow together while searching her face. 

Her heart starts to pound while taking note of his face; sharp features, almost translucent under the moonshine. His full lips blend into his light complextion, his cheekbones hollow and gaunt as if violently ill but most startling, it’s the stare that shocks her most. 

Two beady, marble-like eyes, black as night and shining with a sheen never looking away — eyes that belonged to a bat. 

A bat that had seemingly disappeared into thin air. 

Rey reaches for the knife just as he collapses with a booming thud. 

#  **II.**

_ It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s in your head — everything has always been in your head. They’re not coming back. The bat wasn’t real. The man isn’t real. Nothing is real. Everything is as it has always been: alone and by yourself. _

She repeats this phrase for hours until it ebbs into belief; until morning shines through her window. 

_ You have work, _ Rey’s brain reminds, _ you have to go to work. _She only grips the knife tighter. 

It takes time. Longer than it should. But eventually, Rey gets up. Eventually, Rey leaves the bedroom. 

It’s dark. The windows have been covered with the thick comforting blankets she leaves at the end of her couch, blocking out any sign of daylight. Smashed glass glitters over her kitchen floor, a cupboard door hangs loose looking ready to fall and the remnants of a chair is splintered across the room. 

The culprit of the mess sits casually at the table, hidden behind the newspaper he reads — like it’s just another ordinary morning; like this is his kitchen, not a stranger’s house he’s intruding. 

As if sensing her presence, the paper folds over his pale grip, beady eyes connecting with hers before wandering below. They travel down her nose, over her lips, lingering at her neck before finally landing on the knife pointed in his direction. His lips twitch as if wanting to smile, but they remain a flat line as he returns Rey’s gaze once more. 

He stares, expression impassive, head cocking left. “Is that any way to treat a guest?” 

His voice is warm — the _ warmest _thing about him. It’s low and soft and teasing, carrying across the room with volume despite it’s quiet nature. 

It’s too nice a sound for the situation; so nice that it takes a minute to find her tongue. 

“I’ll only ask this once — if you don’t comply, I’ll call the police.” He raises his chin slightly, suddenly interested as her voice shakes with the nerves impossible to hide. “Get out of my home.” He doesn’t move. A minute passes, then another, and still no movement is made. “Leave, _ now, _and I won’t have you arrested—”

“I still haven’t thanked you.” He interrupts, closing the paper and setting it aside. He leans back in the chair, folding his pale hands in his lap. Her eyes follow them briefly before quickly snapping back up, now wide with disbelief. 

_ Is he pale and huge everywhere? _

A smirk twists at his mouth. “I believe a thank you is in order — you saved me; took me in when others only walked on; cared for me when others only prodded me with shoes.” He rises from his seat, advancing with slow but long strides, soon backing her against the door to her bedroom; the door she _ never _should have opened. 

He’s right in front of her now, chest in line with her sight. The knife in her hands is quickly snatched away; one large palm wrapping around the sharp blade, tugging with little to no effort before it lands somewhere with a singing clang. 

Her eyes flutter to a close when cold fingers tuck a thick strand of hair behind her ear, lightly ghosting down the side of her neck before landing under her chin. 

He tilts her head with a gentleness that doesn’t befit his nature. “Look at me,” He softly commands. Rey obeys, sucking in a sharp breath as he leans in close. _ “Thank you. _ For saving me _ . _ For caring.” He sounds out slowly. “No one’s ever cared for me _ so diligently _as you.” 

His lips part into a smile. Not a closed-lipped smile, but an open, wide, _ horrifying _smile, exposing two sharp, shiny fangs. 

Rey shivers. “What are you?” She whispers. 

“I think you know.” When he pushes away and heads back to the table, a loud exhale disrupts the silence; her loud exhale. “Don’t worry — _ I won’t bite.” _

“I was serious before.” She deepens her tone. “You need to leave.”

“Would that I could.” He quips. “I have much to attend to — necks to snap, an uncle to kill — but it’s a little too sunny out for my taste. Unless you find a witch. Doubtful in Jakku, but not entirely impossible.” 

Rey can barely process the conversation — she can barely process _ existence, _too preoccupied by laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. 

“This is insane.” 

He hums. “You _ do _have to be a little insane to willingly live in this wasteland—”

“This is… it’s crazy.” Rey announces to the bare flat ass she currently unknowing stares down in her absent ramble. “You are _crazy.” _He turns, unabashed by his naked form while she begins to pace. “To think I’d… I’d just let you stay after all this — to think I’d actually believe this!” 

“There are a number of ways I could make you believe it, but I _ think _ you’d appreciate it more if I didn’t— _ what are you doing? _”

Her hands grab fistfuls of the fluffy blanket blocking the kitchen window, pulling it off with one quick tug. 

Before Rey can even blink, she’s trapped against the wall, a violent hiss being the only warning until he crowds her again. 

“You have a death wish, mortal.” Those beady eyes are relentless, never blinking; just staring. “Such a divine smell, too.” He inhales, head dropping to bury in the junction of her neck for a brief moment before hooking those eyes on her once more. “Such… _ temptation _; such a tease.” 

It should be disturbing, but he’s _ so _captivating in a terrifying sense; magnetic in an alluring sort of way. It should make her tummy tumble and mouth dry. It only does the opposite:

It makes her tremble. It makes her thighs clench tight and her stomach flip with anticipation. It makes her body sing with want — so touch-starved and desperate, Rey could willingly stay in this position. 

She swallows thickly, raising her chin to show his words give no effect of fear. _ “You’re a monster.” _She states, not daring to back down. 

“Yes.” He nods, staccato, voice dripping with such a pleasant hum he his gaze hardens. _ “I am.” _

She’s on fire; burning up into a vibrant red despite the chill he emits — her body, her face, her lungs; everything hot and clammy and itchy. Everything about this, _ about him, _has her hot and bothered in a way she shouldn’t. 

And so she runs. 

#  **III.**

Work is grueling; a welcomed distraction from everything crazy that’s just occured. Unkar yells so loud that it seems to block out anything else. She stays long into the afternoon despite not getting overtime pay, getting lost within the junkyard, scavenging for salvageable parts. 

It doesn’t last long enough though, eventually being forced out. Rey bikes the long way home, but it’s not enough; she stops to help a lady with her groceries, wondering if anyone will do the same when she’s old and alone, but it’s _ not enough. _

All too soon, she’s back at her door, afraid to enter her own house. Her heart pounds, blood pumping and Rey sucks in a deep breath while gaining the courage to enter. 

She stops short, surprised to find that his gaze was on her before she’d even reached for the handle. He’s also no longer alone, now fully clothed in a tight black t-shirt and grey sweats. 

A short woman sits beside him at the table, joining him with peering over to watch her walk in. 

“Welcome home.” He greets mockingly, not glancing up from the documents that hold his attention. A pen twirls in one hand and a glass of thick red liquid is held in the other. He sucks from one of those crazy looping straws Rey can’t help but keep buying whenever they pop up, making up for lost childhood dreams as they fill a draw in her too-small kitchen. “She doesn’t like me; tried to kill me, in fact.” 

“Can’t imagine why.” The woman returns in a dry tone before leaning in her chair. “You’ll need to sign here. And here — Oh, and _ especially _there—”

“How comforting.” He sneers.

“It’s just a precaution.” 

“Precaution or willingly signing my life away—”

“You’re already dead.” 

“I value my immortality.” 

“Do you want the necklace or not?” He sighs, loud and defeated, but still squiggles along the line. “Great.” The woman claps her hands, grinning as the contract rises from the table and promptly bursts into flames. 

“Is that foreshadowing?” 

“It will be if you keep this up.” 

There’s a smile that crosses his lips; a real, wide smile, beaming with bemusement. As if he senses her shock, the monster’s eyes cross back to her. 

“This is Rose.” Rey blinks, mouth parted as the woman waves her way. “She’s a witch.” She blinks again. 

“It’s nice to meet you — sorry to see he’s invaded your life.” The words, sincere and sympathetic, are accompanied with a bright smile. She’s beautiful: smooth olive skin contrasted with bright dark eyes and shiny hair pulled into a stylish bun — the complete opposite to the man beside him. “You’re not the first, believe me. Still, he can be a handful.” 

Her eyes, with a mind of their own, flick down to his lap. 

“And here I thought you wanted me clothed.” 

“Be nice.” Rose warns as Rey blushes. “You’re disrupting her life — and you should _ really _let me charm—”

“No.” He interrupts, quick and abrupt. “No, I won’t allow it — it’s not…” He pauses, shaking his head. 

Rey frowns at this, hating the feeling that sparks while witnessing this strange conversation; like she’s a guest in her own house, intruding on a moment between the hosts. Granted, she’s never truly felt at home here, but it’s the closest she has and ever will get. 

_ Until they come back. _

“Fine.” Rose huffs. “But if anything goes wrong, that’s on you. Now let’s test this enchantment — I have another appointment later.” 

He nods, shifting in his seat to lean forward as the witch retrieves a gold chain from her pocket. She begins to mutter something foreign, an _ incantation, _slowly wrapping it around the man’s thick nick. Rose hooks the necklace as he draws out a lengthy hiss, grimacing tight as the chain begins to glow upon his skin. It burns orange, contrasting against his complexion like a hot ember. 

It’s hard not to balk at — all of this still feels like an endless nightmare, unreal and impossible. It’s hard to comprehend that _ this moment _is real.

She can only stand stiff, mind blank while trying to make sense of it all. 

“Good?” He asks as the chain cools down and the witch falls silent. 

“We’ll soon see.” 

“You instill _ so much _confidence.” 

Rose only smiles, shooting him a wink before reaching for the blanket Rey had torn down earlier that morning. 

She nods in warning; he nods back. Then, in a swift yank, the stranger is basiking within the afternoon sunset. 

His skin doesn’t glitter underneath the light, nor does it crisp or burn or evaporate away: it’s merely a warm wash over near-translucent skin, highlighting faint blackened veins that _ no longer _flow with blood. 

It highlights what he is — what she knows him to be, but refuses to admit. 

A vampire. 

The proof is all there—in his sickly pale white skin, the sharp fangs exposed from a wide, relieved smile, the thick blood he drinks from one of her own glasses. 

It should be unnerving or traumatising in a sense, but in this moment under the light he is _ too beautiful _ to hate; too ethereal to do anything but marvel at. 

Rey can only stare with wonder. 

“Don’t get too excited.” Rose interrupts slowly. “Please remember that you _ still _can’t stay out too long—”

“You’re ruining a long awaited moment, Rose—”

“For a good cause.” She snaps. “I’m glad though. It’s nice to see you back out, Kylo.” 

He nods, turning his head to look at Rey — hard beady eyes softening, taking her in as the sun illuminates a halo of gold around his impressively large body. 

His smile is slight and warm, tinged with a pinkness that wasn’t there moments before. 

“It’s nice to be out.” He murmurs softly, gaze roaming her face with delight. 

Behind him, Rose clears her throat. “I should head out now — some werewolf can’t get rid of his fleas.” 

“Perhaps he should take a bath.” He quips dryly, earning a laugh. “Thank you for coming out all this way.” 

“All for a price.” She smirks. “I imagine I’ll be seeing you in the future unless you manage to get yourself killed. Stay safe, Kylo — you just got out. Don’t ruin that.” She turns to Rey then. “It was lovely meeting you. I hope this gets him out of your hair.” 

She can only nod mutely, watching the witch disappear out her front door with a thousand and one questions. 

#  **IV. **

It doesn’t take long to get into the afternoon routine after Rose’s departure — Rey’s in the shower before he can say a word, taking a _ lot _longer than usual while she brainstorms how to make him leave. 

Her skin prunes under the water, becoming wrinkled and rolled until the hot water turns cold and she’s forced to get out. 

It’s from there that Rey learns she was _ too quick _ to avoid him, forgetting to bring a spare change of clothes. 

She wraps a towel around her body, takes a deep breath and takes a plunge. A solution to her former problem, however, seems to resolve itself _ right _as she’s tip-toeing to her bedroom, dripping and dressed only in a towel,

He speaks with his back turned to her. “I’ll be gone tomorrow.”

Rey jumps, slips and lands hard on the floor. He’s by her side in no time at all, lifting and setting her back on the ground with impossible speed. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Fine.” She bites out, glaring and clutching the towel tightly to her body. “You startled me.”

“And I don’t always do that?” He asks lowly. “Startle you?” 

“No. You’re confusing it with _ irritate.” _

His responding chuckle his warm, vibrating within his chest. “Like I said: I’ll leave you be tomorrow and irritate you no longer.”

She nods sharply as something spikes within her chest. “Good.”

He follows her into the bedroom. 

“This is all very quaint.” He comments. “Too cramped.” he has to duck beneath the frame to step in. 

“Do you mind?” Rey snarks — she should feel afraid in this room. She should feel afraid in this situation — why _ isn’t _ she afraid. “I’d like to get dressed, hop into bed and wake up to you _ gone _in the morning.”

He turns his back. 

“Better?” 

She grunts, because it’s _ not better, _but shrugs off the towel anyways, too tired to protest. 

“Where will you sleep?” She asks, pulling up her pants just in time for his head to glance over his shoulder. 

“I don’t sleep.” He confesses in a low and quiet tone. There’s an edged bitterness reflected in the way his expression twists for the briefest of seconds. 

_ Neither do I, _ she wants to reply; to reassure. Rey only remains silent and shuffles on the spot, letting him continue.

“It feels as if I’ve slept for one hundred years. I’m too well-rested to be confined any longer.” 

_ You just got out. Don’t ruin that. _

Rey reflects on what she heard that day and wonders what it all means — what did he get out from? Who did he get away from? She wishes she could ask. 

Instead she only huffs, eyes shifting out the window. The moon is bright, peeking through the blinds she shut moments before. It created a striped pattern against the skin of his arm; a sickly pale blue in the dark contrasted with an illuminated white sheen. 

There’s still no true vibrant colour on him except for the head of raven black hair that seems to fall just right. He studies her while she studies him. 

It has her squirming on the spot. 

“I don’t…” She trails off, unsure of how to word it. “I don’t want you to just linger in my house while I sleep. It’s… weird.” 

“Then I’ll stay here. In this room.” 

There is no hint of a smile to suggest he was making a joke; his features are stoic and still, as they always are, beady eyes blinking at her just as he did when he was a poor, helpless little bat. 

Right now, he seems anything _ bu _t helpless. Right now, he has her heart beating faster than the speed of light. 

If she was rational, there would be one hundred and one reasons to laugh at his ridiculous suggestion; to understand that her life is on the line here. But nothing about this situation is rational — he’s a fucking vampire; something fictional to be romanticised in some fantasy novel or, perhaps more correctly, the villain in a horror film. 

He is supposed to be nothing more than a myth. But here he is, standing tall and rigid in her own very bedroom, moving so elegantly when walking to the chair placed in the corner. 

It creaks when the sheer weight of him sits down. 

“You’re just… you’ll sit there and watch me sleep all night?” 

He heaves out a loud huff, looking mildly repulsed as he casually reaches for a book on the shelf behind him 

_ Twilight. Go-fucking-figure. _

Rey’s still frozen on the spot until he glances up with a curious brow. She climbs into bed after that, wishing his cold eyes away on someone else. 

She shifts on her side. Then to her other. She stares at the ceiling, then the wall, closing and opening them every few minutes. 

Finally, rey gives in. 

“So witches exist.”

“Wonderful observation there—”

“Does Hogwarts?”

“_ Hogwarts?” _

“Never mind.” A pause. “And werewolves?”

“I thought you were supposed to be sleeping?” 

“Well _ sorry _for being curious about a world I had no idea existed up until yesterday.” 

He sighs. “What about werewolves?”

“What are they like?”

“Ugly. Mortal. Boring.”

“Are _ all _mortals ugly to you—”

“No. You’re beautiful, aren’t you?” He announces, like it’s nothing huge. “My pretty little saviour.” Like she’s heard it all before , as if he’s not the first person to ever compliment her that _ isn’t _a drunken leer from the other side of the road. 

“But all werewolves are?”

“There’s a war between us — or _ was _a war. Rose mentioned that it’s over. Been over for years.”

“And you didn’t know?”

The silence lingers after her question. 

“No. No I didn’t.”

“Are ghosts real?” She blurts out a subject change. 

“In a way, yes.” He confirms. Only by a witch’s curse, dooming you to witness conversations you can’t join; to watch your family slowly wither away and become old and die. It’s a long, lonely life.”

Rey frowns — she’d give anything to have a family to watch over. 

“What’s on your mind?”

“A lot.”she answers in a sigh. “Too much to know.” He doesn’t respond. “Why didn’t you let her charm me. She was going to wipe my mind, wasn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“Then why—”

“Because you should know your own life; you shouldn’t come up blank with specific days or memories. You deserve to know what’s happening — you deserve to take it however you wish.” Her cheeks begin to warm at this, eyes stinging; it sounds as if he _ almost _cares. “You willingly saved me and took me into your home. It’s your choice to want me gone tomorrow.”

“Oh.” 

“And I mean it.” He murmurs. “I’ll be out of your life tomorrow. You’ll never have to see me again.” 

Something twists at her stomach with this. suddenly , she feels sick. That feeling that comes after falling hard and fighting to breathe. 

_ Winded. _

“Now sleep.” He commands. “You’re exhausted. You need to rest.” 

Somehow, with a stranger in the room, rey listens; somehow, she manages to feel safe within her own home, falling asleep minutes later to the sound of the wind, a creaking chair and careful turning of pages. 

**Author's Note:**

> just realised that I gifted a total random so, yeah... that was probably a bit of a shock. Sorry Ash, YOU ARE NOW TAGGED XD


End file.
